Heart of the Kingdom
by PhoebeLeFey
Summary: When everything seemed to be going back to normal, something horrible happens to Merlin. Afterward, only one person can reach him. But will it be enough to heal what was broken? (First story series, please forgive if it doesn't flow well. Slash, depictions of NC at the beginning. Don't read if you don't like it. Eventual Merthur)
1. Chapter 1

The morning air was crisp with the scent of fall, the air sparkling with dew as Merlin opened his eyes. The chirp of birds welcomed him as he sat up and stretched, looking out of his window into the still dark sky. 'Another day in paradise..' he thought, chuckling to himself at his irony. His life wasn't bad; he had Gaius and Arthur, Gwen, the knights. All of his beloved friends who he would happily give his life to protect. But lately, he had noticed that something in his life seemed lacking. He couldn't put his finger on it, and whenever the thought came up, he just shrugged and pushed it to the back of his mind. No use worrying about something if you couldn't even tell what it was he was worrying about in the first place.

He slipped his clothes onto his lean frame and slid through the door, closing it gently as he still heard Gaius' gentle snores coming from his workbench. 'Looks like he fell asleep working again', Merlin thought to himself. Shaking his head with a small, caring smile he covered the older man with the blanket that lay on his cot. No response besides a small sigh and Merlin patted the old man's back lightly before leaving his home.

The halls were always eerily quiet this early in the morning. You had the stray servant who was washing the floors, or doing laundry, starting their workday before the hubbub of the castle got in everyone's way, but otherwise it was silent. His footfalls echoed softly through the empty hall as he made his way down to the kitchen's, which was usually the loudest area in the castle. Besides the training ground where Arthur and the knight's trained on a daily basis, of course.

Slipping through the door, one of his friends in the kitchen already had Arthur's food ready and plated, looking like it had just gotten finished. He sighed softly, a smile playing about his lips as he picked up the tray, gave a quick nod to the kitchen staff and gently nudged his way back through the door.

Arthur's breakfast consisted of some fresh bread, olive oil with some herbs to dip it in, some eggs, and five pieces of some delicious smelling bacon and sausage. Looking either way as he walked, he decided that his prat of a prince didn't need ALL of this protein. In fact, it even looked like he had started gaining weight! Merlin nodded at his logic and snuck a piece of bacon off the plate, then a piece of sausage. You know, to keep everything nice and even.

Merlin licked his lips, gathering the left over grease from his little snack, as he entered the prince's room by slowly opening the door. He always kind of felt like a thief when sneaking into Arthur's bedroom, making sure he wasn't heard until he was ready to wake the prince up from his royal beauty sleep, though being the klutz he was, it was generally a practice that went unnoticed. Sitting the food down on the table, he began to slowly arrange the food, knowing the prince would want to eat as soon as he woke up. Arthur tended to be grumpy if he didn't get his food immediately after waking.

Once he was satisfied with the arrangement, Merlin went over to the curtains and noticed the sky had started to lighten quite a bit, the night quickly being swallowed by the coming day. The chill air from the window reminded him that he had forgotten to kindle the nearly-dead fire in the fireplace. He quickly set about making the room warm and comfortable and by the time he was done, the sun had finally peaked over the far mountains. 'Time to wake the prat up, I guess,'

Merlin walked over to the window and threw open the heavy shades, allowing the bright sun to penetrate into the dark room. A grunt from the bed told him that Arthur didn't particularly like the brightness. Too bad. Walking over to the bed, he looked down at his prince. Arthur's blond hair was in disarray, a small bit of drool dripping down his cheek as he turned himself away from Merlin. He couldn't say why, but he enjoyed taking a few minutes to just look at the prince while he was asleep. Merlin guessed it was just because he actually looked kind of like a nice guy, not yelling at him, calling him an idiot and ordering him to clean the entire kingdom.

He slowly started to shake the prince, his cool hand on the broad shoulder.

"Sire, it's time to get up."

"Oomnnwey, merrrinn...", the prince grumbled.

"Sorry, I'm not going away. Time to get up!" Merlin said cheerfully, tugging the covers down a bit. With a shiver the prince slowly lifted his head, his deep blue eyes puffy with sleep.

"Could you find a different way of waking me up without trying to make me freeze to death?" the prince asked, shivvering softly as he stretched his thick arms before him. He absolutely hated the cold when he was just waking up. It was rude, unfomfortable, and had no respect for his princely status. It chilled him just like it chilled his idiot of a manservant. Being prince, one would think that the cold would show deference to him like every other person. But no, it bit into his skin, making him shivver until the blessed fire in the hearth warmed the room.

"I don't think so, Sire. I think the cold is -just- what you need in the morning!" Merlin grinned.

"Well, if you think that, then you will have no problem making sure the entire outside of the stables are cleaned properly. As well as the inside. And the horses. And the stalls." Arthur huffed, sending a small glare at the dumbfounded Merlin.

"But that's-"

"Exactly what you deserve for being an idiot so early in the morning. Now get my clothes together for the day. I have a new training regimen that I want to try with the knights, so make sure it's something warm." Arthur huffed, standing as he slid out from under his sheets. Merlin couldn't help but glance and the well-built body of his prince, admiring the way the muscle shone in the morning light. He could see the curves of each abdominal muscle, gently sloping to meet the next one and down until...

Wait, why was he staring at Arthur?! Merlin knew he liked men but he never really saw Arthur as a man, he was always the princely prat. So, why... He shook his head and shrugged it off. 'It's just because I haven't released a lot of the built up tension lately. Maybe I aught to go out. Maybe go to the tavern? I haven't been there in a while and I could use a good drink.' A loud cough brought his attention back. Arthur had moved from the bed to the table, already halfway through his plate.

"Are you going to stand there all day staring at the wall or are you going to get my clothes together, Merlin?" the prince asked, a small smile tilting the corners of this mouth. He always did enjoy it when Merlin spaced out, his forehead creasing ever so slightly as whatever he was thinking about bounced around in his skull. The fondness he found that he had for the other guy man had formed over the months they had been together, fighting, saving lives, defeating evil monsters that threatened Camelot. Though, it was usually himself and the knights doing most of the work. Merlin tended to just get in the way and get injured. Arthur shook his head, laughing softly. Maybe he should try training Merlin a little better with the sword. That way he could at least help out a little when the fighting broke out!

"S-Sorry, Arthur..." Merlin said softly, not really noticing that he had said the prince's name instead of 'Sire' like he usually addressed him by when in the castle. He gathered the other man's clothes, set them out on the bed and continued to do cleaning and straightening up until Arthur was ready to get dressed.

"I'm going to need a nice hot bath once I'm done today. Could you make sure to have that ready for me as well?" Arthur asked, being a little more gentle. Merlin seemed to be a little out of it today. Maybe it was because of the massive amount of chores he had given him earlier? Ah well, it was his own fault for being so idiotic.

Once Arthur finished his food, he had Merlin dress him and he headed out to the practice field. He had a strange feeling in his gut, a kind of foreboding but he couldn't understand why. It almost felt like leaving Merlin was a bad idea. He rolled his eyes and kept on his way. There was nothing that could hurt Merlin in the castle, especially with all of the guards about!

Arthur arrived down at the field, his mind still somewhat distracted with this feeling of his. And try as he might, he couldn't let the feeling go. He decided to focus on his work, waving at his nights to come to him, making sure everyone could hear him when he noticed someone was missing.

"Where's Percival?" Arthur asked, turning his head to search for the muscled knight. He was one of their strongest knights and he needed to be at training!

"His shoulder is still messed up from yesterday, so Gaius had him take the day off to rest." Gwaine replied, pushing his hair out of his face. "You hit him pretty hard yesterday, don't you remember?"

Ah. Yes. Percival had seemed like he wasn't taking the training seriously enough, which had angered Arthur. Percival had seemed almost blank, like his mind was elsewhere and he only gave the training half, if that, of his attention. When his knight's didn't take training seriously, it ended badly for everyone. And the longer the training continued, the more angry he became. After several attempts to talk with Percival about the seriousness of training, while the other man just stared off into space, the prince was done. The last fight was between himself and Percival and the prince aimed to make sure the Percival wouldn't forget to take this training seriously again. After several minutes of Arthur testing Percival's reaction, trying to get him to do more than just wave his sword halfheartedly,Arthur's anger took hold. He had let his anger go through with the last swing of his blade, which had been deflected by Percival's sword but only barely. By doing so, it had landed right on his pauldron, denting it with the force behind the blow. Percival had grunted and continued fighting, but the damage had been done. Arthur had dislocated Percival's shoulder with the force of his strike. Once he noticed that Percival wouldn't stop due to his injury, very noticeable since his arm just dangled at an odd angle by his side, Arthur called the training to an end and sent the knights away.

"Well, that's what he gets for not taking the training seriously enough! We train to fight enemies bigger than us, weaker than us, with more or less numbers. We train for every possibility we can think of, and even then, we are sometimes unprepared. I want to make sure everyone here understands why we train!" Arthur said, his voice raising. "I don't want to lose one of my knight's again because he didn't take his training seriously enough. I'll allow him off for today, but tomorrow he -will- be here and will train like the rest of us."

His knight's nodded in agreement, understanding where Arthur was coming from. They had lost knights before because of stupid mistakes that could have been prevented through constant training and drilling. Once he had their agreement, their day of training began.


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin groaned softly, his arms aching from all the cleaning he had done that day. Along with his normal chores, the prat of a prince had added even more onto him! But he was finally done, having prepared the prince's bath before he had come down to the stable. He had used his magic to keep the water hot until someone got into it, allowing the water to cool naturally afterwards.

He stretched, his back popping with painful pleasure, and he rinsed himself off from the well nearby after he decided, since he had finished his duties for the day, to take some time for himself and go to the tavern. After, of course, getting Arthur's dinner. A grumble from his stomach reminded him that he had barely ate through the day, the bacon and sausage the only things that had been in his stomach since he awoke. He mentally added to get a small bite to eat after he happened to get the prince his food.

A small, that light tingle that is lighter than the kiss of a butterfly's wings, ran up his spine, causing him to freeze and glance around. The feeling of being watch invaded his senses. He couldn't place it, and after making sure the coast was clear, he whispered a spell. His eyes flashed a brilliant gold, but as he looked, he could see no one around. No one cloaked in magic, no one hiding. There was no one.

Sighing and smacking himself mentally, he called forth his magic again and released the magic he had set onto his eyes to see the heat signatures of anyone around him. Since Morgana hadn't attacked Camelot recently, it had fallen into a rather happy time of peace and quiet. There didn't seem to be any raiders, bandits, magicians. No one had attacked the surrounding villages either. Everything was oddly quiet. Merlin guessed that that was to blame for his jumpiness. He expected Morgana to just poof up and start throwing people left and right to get to the throne room, or summon the dead, again. There was no limit to where she would be willing to go or who to ask for help in her quest for dominion over Camelot.

He shook his head, and proceeded towards the kitchens for the second time that day to fetch Arthur's dinner. The knight's would be finishing up with their practice by now, and Arthur was always starving when he came back from a full day of training. A small wish to have the prince give him a compliment for once surfaced in his mind. Why couldn't Arthur just tell him that he did a good job for once?

'I mean, look at the stables! They look brand new...' Merlin sighed, just wishing that he would be given just a fraction of the gratitude that was most definitely deserved. He knew the prince wouldn't do that, and why he really even cared to have the prince give him some sort of token of endearment made no sense to Merlin. Gaius always told him he did a great job. When it was deserved, of course. He DID do a lot to mess things up, that was always, mostly... sometimes because he was trying to stop something bad from happening in the first place!

The entire time his mental dialogue was going on, Merlin had picked up Arthur's food from the kitchens. He was halfway down the hall from Arthur's room when someone grabbed his elbow and pulled him, hard, into a darkened corridor, the platter of food smashing onto the floor with a loud clang.

He would have yelled out, but for the large hand that slammed itself over his mouth to keep him from making a sound. He struggled, unable to see his attacker or see how big they were. And because he had no idea what was around, he couldn't just use his magic to smash something against the attacker's body or knock his attacker out. Right as he was about to cast a spell to overthrow his attacker, he was spun around and pulled into an unlit room, with the window allowing the moonlight in.

After a few seconds of his eyes getting used to the slightly brighter room, he noticed immediately who was in front of him and gave a huge sigh of relief.

"Percival! You scared me half to death! I was about t-"

Merlin was silenced when his head exploded into pain, stars forming before his eyes. Falling to the ground, he almost immediately tasted blood, his teeth having cut the inside of his cheek. Confused, he looked up to see Percival, unclad from the waist up, staring at the blood, Merlin's blood, on his knuckles. Slowly, he lifted his hand to his mouth and licked the blood off, a low rumble escaping him, almost like the growl of a wild animal.

The raven haired boy was stunned, not being able to move a muscle. 'Wh-why... why did...' Merlin's thoughts were a whirl inside his own head and he jumped when he heard Percival's steps as he walked towards him. He tried to back away but he didn't get far. The solid wall behind him kept him from going any further. Trying to gain traction, his legs weakly kicked at the floor, Percival stepping on either side of the boys legs before sitting down heavily.

Merlin bit back a yelp of pain as his ankles were ground into the hard floor by Percival's arse, making very sure that the younger boy couldn't move his legs. Making a decision, Merlin whispered almost inaudibly a spell that would send Percival flying across the room. Except, it didn't. He didn't feel the familiar rush of energy, the tingling of magic as it wove his will into existence. Nothing. He tried again and again, but nothing came. A low laugh sent goosepimples up Merlin's arms, and we he looked up at Percival, he jumped.

The man's face looked almost demonic, an animalistic grin spread his lips that was almost a baring of teeth. His eyes, though, were what frightened Merlin the most. It was as if he was possessed by something. And whatever it was wasn't allowing him to do magic. Getting a crazy idea, Merlin tried to punch out at Percival's face with all he had, expecting the man to dodge and shift his weight off his legs so he could pull them back and kick out. Except Percival didn't dodge. He just turned his face, allowing Merlin's fist to smash into the side of his face.

The pain that snaked up his arm wasn't expected. Merlin had never really punched anyone before so he didn't know how much it would hurt him to do so. Another low chuckle and Percival slowly turned his head, staring Merlin straight in the eye. It froze the poor boy, fear causing his breath to quicken and his heart to flutter. He felt like prey. Prey that was caught and being toyed with.

Percival leaned in, causing Merlin to whimper softly as he expected something, anything, other than what happened next. A warm, wet thing touched his neck, causing a surprised yelp to slip from Merlin's mouth. When he realized it was Percival's _tongue_, he was frozen with both fear, and confusion.

"Wha-wha... Perci-" Another explosion of pain hit the other side of his face, causing him to moan out pitifully. Percival had punched him again. Merlin didn't understand what was going on, and we was legitimately afraid.

Percival placed his large hands on the lean boy's shoulders, slowly, gently, _possessively_ running them down his arms. Merlin shuddered, his stomach roiling, head ringing with pain. He felt Percival grab his wrists and with one hand, pin them above his head. The other hand gently went down to Merlin's face, thumbing the darkening bruise that had already begun to flower there. Merlin hissed in pain and that seemed to make Percival happy, his thumb pressing ever so gently into the bruise.

Merlin, thinking that Percival was distracted, tried pulling his hands free, but to no avail. Percival had an iron-like grip on them, and the more he moved, the tighter he squeezed. He kept struggling, however, and Percival squeezed both of Merlin's thinner wrist hard enough to pop one out of socket. The pain made Merlin speechless, his mouth hanging open. Percival took that as a queue and brutally slammed his mouth against Merlin's.

His bruised face stung in protest of Percival's actions but Percival didn't care. His tongue tore through Merlin's move, almost like a knife. He poked several times at the cut in Merlin's cheek, moaning softly as he tasted the blood there. Percival's hand came up, grabbed the front of Merlin's shirt and yanked down hard, ripping the fabric open. Merlin just sat there, whimpering softly as Percival claimed his mouth, his large calloused hand roaming over the smoother boy's frame.

He seemed to have no more patience, though. Percival fell away, stood, pulled Merlin up by his wrists and flung him across the nearby table, sending the contents crashing to the floor. His heavy hand settled itself on Merlin's lower back, the pressure intense enough to make the smaller boy wince in pain.

Merlin felt, more than heard, the next bit of clothing being ripped away, the cool night air kissing his bare legs and arse. Percival had just ripped away his pants and exposed him to the world. Trying to turn around, to stop what he knew was going to happen next, he used his good hand to grab a nearby candelabra, using his hurt arm's elbow to hold his weight as he threw the metal decoration at Percival, missing him by a wide berth.

Another punch, this time to his side, took his breath away. He had heard a small crack, and worried that Percival had broken a rib. As he was able to get his breath back, Percival used his pants, having removed them while Merlin gained his wind, and tied Merlin's hands together behind his back, which hurt Merlin's already dislocated wrist.

A shiver tore through Merlin's body, the cold and fear finally making a physical manifestation. He closed his eyes as he felt Percival's hands grope his arse, spreading his cheek to show his virgin entrance to the world. He shook his head, not wanting to be taken this way, tears streaming down his face.

"Arthur..." he whispered, wondering why he had whispered the name of the one person he couldn't stand. He breathed in deeply, his tears continuing to stream down his now dust-laden face, and prepared himself for what would happen next.


	3. Chapter 3

***Okay, I'm really sorry about this! I had written the third chapter but hated the way it came out, so I rewrote it. I'm happy with it now, so sorry for all those of you who had read it and now have to do so again. My bad! Also, thank you for those of you who have taken the time to read, favorite/follow, and review my story. It makes me so giddy that people are actually reading it! I hope to keep you all happy so please enjoy the next part of HotK!***

* * *

><p>Arthur's sigh accompanied him stretching his sore arms above his head to help keep them from cramping up. The training he had the knights do had been tough, even on him, and by the time the day ended, all the knights were limping, or covering some part of themselves that had been bruised or battered. 'That's the way of battle, though. You hit, get hit, hit in return until one or the other goes down', Arthur thought to himself. Uther would have been proud to hear that coming from the blond man, except nothing really made his father proud anymore. He was always expecting more, wanting more, needing more of his son to be what Uther wanted him to be, instead of what <em>Arthur<em> thought he should be.

He walked up the stairs towards his room, his stomach grumbling at the thought of the supper that awaited him in his quarters. 'That damned servant better have brought my dinner on time today or he'll spend the next week in the stocks!' Arthur growled to himself, getting an odd sensation in his gut as he pictured the pale, raven-haired youth being on his knees, his head and arms stuck on one spot, ready for anyone's use... Wait..

Arthur blinked, jamming the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to get the picture out of his mind. Why had that thought seemed more... erotic... than it used to? Merlin was a man! A servant! A manservant! He couldn't be... No. There's no way he could be finding Merlin attractive. Nope, not a one.

Shaking his head in deep denial, he tromped his way towards his room before coming to a screeching halt. Something was off. He didn't know how he knew, but the flutter in his gut, his blood feeling like ice... all of these were signs that Arthur had learned to listen to, especially from the battlefield. Slowly turning his head, his eyes scanned every nook and cranny around the hall. All was quiet, the only sounds being the gentle crackles of the sconces in the wall and the faint chirping of insects from outside, calling to their beloved or claiming their territory.

Taking a few deep breaths, Arthur willed his racing heart to slow, his hands shaking slightly from the rush of adrenaline. Maybe he was just that tired? Getting worked up over spooks and shadows? An irritated huff, another palming of his eyes, and Arthur turned back towards his door, stopping again when he noticed something shining in the darkened hallway a few paces away.

'I wonder... what... what is that?' Arthur asked himself, slowly, silently, making his way towards the object. The closer he got, the more his heart rate sped up. It was a tray. A silver serving tray. And the closer Arthur got, the more of the area he saw; a few strewn pieces of fruit, a shattered jar of olive oil, a bowl of beef stew having lost most of its contents, and an empty goblet, the wine joining the beef stew to widen the puddle on the floor.

It took the blond prince a few seconds to realize exactly _who's_ food it was that had been spilled. 'Damnit, Merlin. Can't you do anything right?' Arthur growled to himself, the sound making his chest thrum. He was going to throttle that servant of his until...

A quiet whimper, a gasp, and a gentle thud stopped Arthur's train of thought. He had heard many of those sounds before, while trying to sneak through enemy territory. A whimper of fear, a gasp of surprise, and the thud of a falling body. His heart rate sped up, his thoughts a whirl inside of his head. 'Merlin..!'

Arthur almost went running down the hall, screaming his servant's name, but catching himself before he placed the first foot down. Whoever it could be was most likely after him, not his servant. Merlin had a bad habit of always getting himself into sticky situations because of his desire to protect the prince, from himself and everyone who wanted to hurt him.

Willing his heartbeat to slow, deepening his breath, he slowly drew his sword, wincing at the scraping sound that seemed to echo throughout the hall. One step, followed by another, so quietly that even a wolf would have startled to find Arthur behind it, Arthur made his way into the darkened hall, his ears straining to hear any sound, his eyes any sign of movement.

There! Had that shadow moved? He stopped, staring at the first doorway he had come to, his eyes slowly getting accustomed to the darkness. He waited, and waited, and waited, for what seemed like eternity, which really, was only a few seconds. Right as he was about to continue his way down, the shadow moved again, and a muffled grunt welcomed his straining ears. Yes, that's where he needed to go.

Pressing himself flush with the wall, not minding the rough stone that scraped his skin, the blond man silently moved closer to the door. Taking a few more breaths to steady himself, he slowly angled his head around the corner to see who was making the sounds. And froze at what he saw.

Merlin, his black hair shining in the moonlight that cascaded in from the window behind him, bent over a wooden table, the tear tracks on his face reflecting the what little light there was towards Arthur. Another whimper escaped his taut lips, before a resounding smack nearly shattered the quiet. The prince had jumped, not expecting the loud sound, which brought his eyes up from the pale-skinned boy to the person behind him, the one who had smacked his manservant's arse.

Percival, one of his most trusted knights, one of his (and Merlin's) closest friends, stood behind the servant, his bruising, iron grip on the boys hips as he rutted against the youth. The larger man bent down, kissing along Merlin's skin, an almost inaudible whine slipped from Merlin's lips, followed by a pained gasp as Percival bit the back of his neck with enough force to break the skin.

Arthur's heart was raging in his chest, his eyes growing hot and livid with rage. How _dare_ Percival touch Merlin that way! Merlin was _his_ servant, _his_ friend. _HIS!_ Arthur gripped the pommel of his sword before swinging around the door frame, storming into the room before him. He had relative little fear that Percival would hurt Merlin with a weapon, since the man was nude and unarmed. Neither of the men across the room noticed his presence, until Arthur swung his fist, knocking the silver dinnerware that was piled up on the small table next to where he was standing.

"What. The. FUCK. Is going on?" Arthur yelled out, his body shaking. All movement on the other side of the room stopped, a surprised gasp coming from Merlin's mouth, while the only indication that Percival gave that he had heard was a tilt of the head in Arthur's general direction.

The moonlight glinted off the other man's back, the drips of sweat rolling down gently across the rolling hills of his muscled frame. He slammed his hips forward, drawing out a yelp from the boy below him before turning his attention to the man who had interrupted their fun.

"Oh. Hello, Arthur." Percival droned out, his voice slightly bored, while his eyes glared at the man across from them. How dare the prince interrupt _his _fun with the toy he had been craving for so long? His lips split into a grin, more a baring of teeth, as he turned more of his attention to the rage-filled man. "Have you come to enjoy the show?" he asked the prince, accentuating his works by gripping the raven-haired boy in front of him by his hair and yanking him up, Merlin gasping in pain as he was pulled along.

Shame filled Merlin's mind as he noticed the way the prince was staring at them. He had wished with every fiber of his being that the night would get over with soon so he could limp back to his room and forget everything had happened. But it was too late now. The prince, _his_ prince, had seen this scene of debauchery and would doubtfully believe anything Merlin had to say about it. Because in some small, dark part of Merlin's mind, he knew that he enjoyed it. Not the pain, the hitting, the bloody biting. But the _possession_ that Percival handled him with, as if everything that was Merlin, was his... That was what he was enjoying. And he hated every last bit of himself for it, too.

"Let. Merlin. Go." Arthur said lowly, the words coming out as a growl. When he noticed that Percival made no move to act on his order, the rage built further. "NOW!" Arthur's voice bounced around the room for a few seconds, causing Merlin to wince. He had never heard the prince so angry, even with him!

Percival chucked, leaning in to nuzzle his face against the pale neck that was stretch out in front of him. Staring directly into Arthur's eyes, he licked a line from Merlin's shoulder to his ear, an involuntary shudder from the boy below making him grin. "Why, when he enjoys it so?" he asked the prince, a low chuckle escaping his lips. His fingers gripped Merlin's hair harder, tilting his head back a little farther. "Isn't that right, my pet?"

"Because he's MINE!" Arthur's words rolled out of his mouth before he had the full implication of what he was saying. With no mood, or time, to deal with it now, he placed his thoughts to the back of his mind as he started slowly walking toward the duo, his stance akin to how he walked when he hunted. The predator, on the balls of his feet and his legs ready to jump at a moments notice, came out in him. He would make sure that Percival was punished for what he was doing. The closer he got, the more of the pale, milky skin of his servant he could see. The purple bruises and raised blood, the teeth marks and fist outlines. The rage nearly overtook him at that point, had he not bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself somewhat under control.

Percival stared at Arthur, a small smile tilting his lips up. "Oh? He's yours? In what way? I know he washes your clothes, fetches your food, and cleans your armor..." His hand drifted from Merlin's waist towards the boy's center, gripping the raging erection that was hidden below the table. "But you can't give him what he craves, what he desires. From you, no less. So I shall give it to him. In your stead." Percival turned bringing Merlin's body fully into the moonlight, the boy's body shaking from the many emotions and feelings that coursed through him.

Arthur stopped, staring at the boy in front of him. He had begun noticing, over the past few weeks, exactly how pale his servant was. It wasn't unhealthy. Just natural. His eyes traveled down the boys body, where Percival slowly, oh so slowly, moved his hand against the youth, drawing an almost inaudible moan from his lips. His fist tightened on his sword, his body shaking with anger. No, Percival would never touch Merlin again. No one, besides him, would touch Merlin again. Not without his explicit permission to do so, which he never planned to give anyone.

He stalked forward, his eyes pulling up from the center of Merlin's body to the man behind him. Their eyes met, and a small chill went down Arthur's spine as he noticed that Percival's eyes seemed different. Another step brought him closer and that's when he noticed that the man's eyes had gone completely black, giving the look that he no longer had anything inside of them. Which meant only one thing...

Sorcery.

Another growl escaped Arthur's throat as he raised his sword to Percival's own, glaring at the man. If looks could kill, Percival would have been dead a thousand times over. "Let him go, Percival. I will not ask again." His voice was gravelly from keeping himself restricted and containing his anger. In order to prove his point, he pressed the tip of the sword a little farther, pricking the other man's skin so that a drop of blood ran down the blade.

"Mmm. I'm not sure you want him enough. Show me. Show me that you deserve this delicious little morsel and that every other man with a prick between his legs doesn't." A grin split Percival's lips, his bright teeth almost glowing in the moonlight that highlighted them. His hand continued its slow ministrations on Merlin's center, causing the boy in his grasp to whimper and moan, struggling against the feelings that overwhelmed him. His heart and body were at war, and he was lost in the bloodbath of the battlefield.

"Damnit, Percival, let him go NOW!" Arthur yelled at his foe's face, turning his sword to slice down the mans bicep of the arm that cradled Merlin's sex. However, Percival didn't move, his grin staying plastered on his face. The blood continued to flow down his arm, twinkling like jewels in the moonlight.

"Good, good. But that's not enough, Arthur. SHOW me." Percival purred out, turning his face towards Merlin's own, licking the side of the boys reddened ear as he sped up the hand that teased the boy he held. He was about to give his boy a nibble on the ear when he heard the clang of metal as Arthur dropped his sword, his fist making its way quickly to Percival's cheek. The resounding smack of the impact made Merlin's ears ring, but the arms that held him let up enough for him to pull himself away, choking out a sob of gratitude as he stumbled towards his master.

Arthur pushed Merlin behind him, acutely aware of both the boy's nudeness and the bruises and blood that lay upon the entire boy's body. Percival would NOT be getting away with this. With that thought, he looked at the man before him, who's eyes were widened by surprise. Percival looked around the room, not understanding how he had gotten there, the confusion plain as day on his face. He blinked a few times, as if waking from a dream. Or a nightmare.

"S-Sire..? I'm confused... what's... what's going on..?"

Instead of answering the man's question, Arthur shook his head, taking a threatening step forward until the pressure of a shaking palm made itself noticed on his back. Turning, he looked at Merlin, the boy's body shaking slightly, eye's wide as he looked up at his prince.

"A-Ar... Arthur don't... I don't think... I don't think he was himself..." Merlin said quietly, trying to keep his voice low.

"I don't give a fuck! Raping you... Hurting you as he did is an offense I cannot overlook. No matter how loyal he was before."

"But Arthur, please.." Merlin begged, not wanting to tell him that he felt the presence leave Percival's body the moment the prince's fist struck. It would give him away as a sorcerer but... Wasn't Percival's innocence worth it? He wasn't honestly sure, the want to keep his secret battled his want to save his friend.

"I... Merlin, I-" Percival, having heard what the prince had just accused him of, looked like he had just watched his family die in a flaming building as he stood by watching, their screams reaching his ears but his body would not move to save them. Slowly, he sunk to the floor, staring at his hands; the hands that still had both his an Merlin's blood, and other bodily fluids, on them.

Merlin couldn't take Percival looking so broken, so hurt. Because of him... He hadn't been strong enough to call forth his power to push him away, the presence, whatever it was, having somehow not allowed him to touch the golden orb of power inside of him. He rushed over to Percival's side, hesitant to touch him but needing to show Percival that he didn't blame him. Staring at the crumpled man made his heart twist and he wasn't sure what to do.

An iron hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him backwards away from the other man. "You will not go near him, Merlin. Not until I know what's going on." Arthur said, glaring at the other man. Knowing Merlin, he probably wanted to help. But he couldn't allow that. Not until he knew every little detail of what happened from the other man. Pulling Merlin back, the raven-haired man giving little resistance, he turned his back on Percival to stare Merlin in the eyes.

"Go to my room and stay there. I will be by as soon as I figure out what to do with him.." Arthur said, nudging his head towards the man still on the floor. His anger, while still flared, had abated some, so he felt more in control. He also had noticed that Percival's eyes had changed back to their original color, the whites being particularly bright.

"B-But Arthur, I jus-"

"You WILL not argue with me on this Merlin. Do as I say." Arthur glared at the boy, earning a submissive whimper and nod, turning away from him as he ran out of the room, waiting until he heard his doors open, close, and that no other sounds of bare feet running through the halls could be heard.

Turning back towards Percival, Arthur growled softly, clenching his fists. How he wanted to just punch the man in front of him and drag him to the dungeon to rot. But he couldn't. Because, in his heart of hearts, he knew the real Percival wouldn't dare lay a finger on Merlin like that, on _anyone_ like that, and he needed to figure out why Merlin had been targeted.

"Now, Percival, you are going to explain everything you remember. Every minute detail. Am I understood?" he asked, watching the other man as he gave a slow nod from his otherwise motionless body. His anger was slowly evaporating, being replaced with concern over what had transpired and worry that, if it indeed had been sorcery, it would happen again.


	4. Chapter 4

***Thanks so much for the faves/follows and reviews! It is much appreciated. :) I hope the story is beginning to pick up a little? I may not be able to update as quickly as I have, since school is going to be calling me away for a bit, but do not fear! I plan on at -least- updating once a week. Now, enjoy the show!**

* * *

><p>Merlin closed the door to Arthur's chambers, wincing as he knocked his wrist about. His deep blue eyes looked down at the angry purple, swollen joint. He could fix it with a bit of magic but.. He closes his eyes, set his teeth and whispered a phrase, gasping in pain as the joint popped back into place. Breathing out slowly, trying not to groan, he opened his eyes. 'I wonder what's happening between Arthur and... P-Percival...' he asked himself, the night flashing like lightning inside of his head.<p>

Percival yanking him into the room.

Percival slamming him into the wall.

Percival smashing his mouth against Merlin's.

The acts of the night didn't seem real. It almost seemed as if he was floating as he remember, becoming detached from the actions and pain that the night had ensued. However, one thing, a phrase, stayed loud and vivid in his mind, drowning out almost every other thought.

'I'm tainted...'

No one would want him now. He was damaged goods, tainted by another man, tainted by the experience of his first time. Just thinking about having someone's hands on him set him to shivering with fear and nausea. He never wanted to experience the fear, the pain, again. But another part of his mind whispered to him, as if gloating.

'But you enjoyed it...'

Merlin could deny this, push the thought back so far that it was buried beneath all of his other secrets, everything he kept hidden. He would not acknowledge it, he would not feed it. Instead, he would let it fester and grow in a different manner.

The sounds of night life drifted up from the prince's open window, drowning out the silence within the room. The echoes of drunken laughter, the chirps form the night time crickets, a hoot of an owl. Merlin closed his eyes, allowing the sounds of normalcy to help him calm down. He wouldn't let this defeat him, he thought. He could be strong.

With these thoughts, Merlin set about trying to find something to cover his bruised and battered body. After a few minutes of searching, the only thing he found was an extra sheet for the prince's bed. 'I'll need to wash it anyway...' he thought to himself as he wrapped it around his body. He couldn't bear having Arthur seeing him like that again.

Making his way to the hearth, the fire within groaning and crackling happily, Merlin sat himself in one of the chairs to wait for the prince. After the anger that Arthur displayed, he didn't want to upset him further by leaving when the prince had told him not to. So he waited.

~3 months later~

Things had steadily got back to normal, Merlin putting the night from his mind, until his dreams dredged the memories back up. Dark circles formed beneath his eyes, the blue seeming less bright. His skin had taken on a kind of sickly pallor, an unhealthy looking grey. Those around him worried, Arthur in particular, but when questioned, Merlin would grin and shake away his friends' worries.

They noticed how he avoided physical interaction like the plague, dodging worried, comforting gestures with the deftness of a drunk cat. He would usually knock something over, or drop something, which would send him into a flurry of apologies and action that would get him away from the situation quick, fast, and in a hurry. No one, besides Percival and Arthur, knew why.

_Percival had tried apologizing to Merlin, explaining that the last thing he remembered was the day before Arthur had hurt him in training. He had had a restless night, whispers of forbidden desires gently prodding his self control. He had told himself that he couldn't, that he didn't even find men attractive. That Merlin was Arthur's manservant, therefor an extension of Arthur himself._

_But his desires wouldn't listen. They wracked his mind, causing him to lose rest, which allowed the thoughts to persist. They dark whispers almost became a physical force, as if driving him towards the end goal. He had tried to stop himself but his body had not felt like his own. It was like he watched from a distance, honestly believing that what was happening was a dream. A nightmare, one that he wished fervently to wake from. _

_However, he couldn't. Not until Arthur's burst of anger, the punch that seemed to shatter the window he had been looking through, hit him. It had taken him a few moments to understand what had happened. And the guilt that accompanied the realization had been overwhelming. He would have tried taking his own life, had he not found the weird pouch of herbs stuffed under his pillow after returning home. _

_He had brought it to both Gaius' and Arthur's attention, trying to explain that he wasn't a sorcerer. Gaius had believed him, saying that the herbs that had been within the bag could only come from a certain valley that lay a week's ride outside of Camelot. If he had taken the time to gather the herbs himself, everyone would have noticed his absence. The older man did explain, however, that the herbs were meant to awaken the dark side of desire, a treatment used on the Old Religion's enemies, to tear apart those that were close to them and, eventually, the guilt would cause them take their own life._

_The two men had stared at Gaius, to the pouch, then to each other._

_'Percival, it wasn't your fault. This was the work of sorcery, not your own hand.'_

_'I-I know, Sire...' Percival had replied, looking down guiltily. 'But Gaius just said that it wouldn't have worked had the desire not been there in the first place... It just... twisted it...' His eyes dragged from the floor to his prince, worry and apprehension flashing in them._

_'I understand that, Percival, but I also know that, had you wanted to court Merlin, you would have come to ask for my blessing.'_ _Arthur placed a firm hand on Percival's shoulder. 'You are an honorable man, Percival. I understand that you would never have harmed a hair on Merlin's idiotic head unless it was for his own good.' The small smile the Arthur gave Percival had made the man relax a bit._

_'I still blame myself but... knowing why this happened makes it a little easier to bear. But now the question is... why?' Percival glanced to Gaius, who had been turning the rather ordinary pouch around in his hand. 'Why Merlin? It just kind of seems off for this person to target a knight that would just happen to target his prince's manservant.'_

_'We can't rule out anything, Percival. However, I do think you are correct. We need to figure out who is doing this, and soon. I fear it may happen again.' Gaius looked at the two men in front of him, his grey eyes stony, serious._

_'We have to protect Merlin.'_

Merlin had not been included in the conversation between the three men, constantly keeping himself busy so that his mind couldn't think on anything besides his current job. He worked tirelessly, cleaning the stables, washing the floors, even tending to the knights' laundry and armor. He was losing sleep, but he didn't care. The less he slept, the less he had to remember what had happened.

One night, after a particularly exhausting day of cleaning the armory by hand, Merlin stumbled through the halls towards Gaius' chambers, wanting nothing but to fall into the dreamless oblivion that he hoped was awaiting him. He was so preoccupied with his plans of a dreamless sleep that he didn't pay attention while he rounded the next corner, running headlong into a hard body of armor. He fall backwards, and would have landed against the wall had the hand that shot out not caught him.

It took Merlin a few moments to realize that, not only had he not fallen but someone was gripping his arm. His pulse jumped, adrenaline pouring through his veins. Without even taking a look, he screamed, yanking at his arm to free it from the other person's grip. However, the other party wouldn't let up.

"Woah woah woah, Merlin. Settle down, it's just me." Gwain said, pulling the boys arm enough to get him upright. Merlin yanked his arm free, his blue eyes wide with fear. "Woah, now. Everything's okay." the man said softly, taking a tentative step towards the fearful boy.

"I-I-I'm sorry Gwain... I-.. you just... startled me is all.." Merlin mumbled, keeping his eyes glued to the ground between his feet. Gwain noticed that Merlin was obsessively rubbing the place on his arm the he had caught the boy, as if rubbing it would make the sensation go away.

"Is everything... okay Merlin? You've been acting rather odd for the past few months." Gwain asked, taking another step toward the boy. His heart ached for the poor lad, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around him and show his that everything would be okay. But he knew that Arthur would probably not approve, as jealous and overprotective as he was over his young manservant. Instead, the knight laid a hand on the boy's shoulder, trying to show the boy that he was concerned, which startled Merlin all over again.

"I-I.. I have to go, Gwain..!" Merlin squeaked out, ripping his shoulder from the man's grip and running around the rather shocked man. Tears had begun to fill his eyes, gently and silently falling down his pale cheeks. A shudder wracked his body, sending him sprawling. Crumpled on the ground, Merlin sobbed silently, his hands gripping the stone floor as if it could somehow save him from the overwhelming fear.

"Merlin...?" The voice caused his sobs to stop immediately, catching in his throat. Slowly, the younger boy looked up, the tear tracks down his somewhat dirty face sparkling in the soft light from the surrounding sconces. Arthur stood in the hallway, concern etched over his facial features. "Merlin, what's wrong?" the prince asked, taking a slow step forward.

Merlin backed away, his body now visibly shaking. "N-n-nothing, Sire... I uh-um... t-tripped.." He said clumsily, trying to give Arthur a confident smile to show him he was okay. It didn't work. Arthur took a few more steps towards the boy on the floor, his servant, his friend, and offered his hand to help the young warlock up. Merlin stared at the hand, swallowing a few times to help keep what little food he had eaten that day down. He didn't want to touch his prince's hand, but he didn't want to insult him by not doing so either. So tentatively, Merlin reached out his hand and grasped his prince's, wincing at the contact.

With a gentle pull, the blond man helped up his servant, making sure not to tug too hard at the frail-looking limb. He was beginning to really worry over him, his guts twisting as he watched the younger boy mumble a goodbye before running around him towards his chambers. The pain in Arthur's chest nearly took his breath away, wanting nothing but to wrap the other boy in his arms to protect him from anything, and everything that would wish him harm.

Sighing, Arthur continued on his way from the courtyard to his chambers. Having nothing more to do that night, he planned to get undressed and flop into his warm bed, hoping that his worry for his servant would abate long enough for him to catch a few hours of sleep. Considering the tonic Gaius' had given him earlier that week, the prince was sure that his sleep would at least be dreamless, if not particularly restful.

Closing his chamber doors, Arthur disrobed and, since he had nothing but training tomorrow, decided to forgo his bath for the night in lieu of getting a little more sleep. He pulled himself into his bed, his mind still whirling with worried about Merlin. Grunting, he whipped his head back and forth, trying to get the thoughts to leave. He took the bottle resting on the table beside his bed, took a large gulp, and pulled himself under the covers, his eyes beginning to close. As he drifted off to sleep, one small part of his mind was wondering why he suddenly had this odd, sweet scent drifting into his dreams.


	5. Chapter 5

***Hey guys/gals! Sorry for the long wait. I've had a lot going on. Thank you so much for the reviews/faves/follows! It really does mean a lot to me that people are enjoying my story. Please feel free to give me some input if you like, I'm not one to take criticism harshly. It may be about a week until I can get the next chapter written up and published. Stupid midterms! Thanks a lot, and enjoy! -P**

* * *

><p>Merlin sat on his bed, biting his lip as he tried to stop the flow of tears down his gaunt face. Arthur, the one man he had tried his best to show his good side to, to show that he was alright, had seen him break. The tears, the flinch... Arthur would know something was up with his servant and the raven haired boy groaned through his tears at the thought that his prince would start trying to question him again.<p>

The places where he had been touched felt hot, burning him with guilt and fear. He rubbed at his wrist absentmindedly, the sensation making his spine quake. He didn't want people taking time out of their precious day to worry about him. He was no one, a servant and nothing more. Oh yes, he may be the world's most powerful warlock, but at that moment, he was the just a boy, a scarred, tortured soul.

Gaius knocked on his door, pulling him from his reverie with a jolt. Breathing through his nose, he tried to calm his racing heart.

"Y-Yes, Gaius?" he asks out tentatively, wondering what the older man could want. Merlin had seen him mixing some poultice or other when he rushed in but hadn't given the other much of a glance. He had been too concerned to corner himself into his room, away form prying, worried eyed.

"I need you to take this poultice to the prince. He will want it for tomorrow, and I will be busy attending a birth so I won't be readily available until late tomorrow evening. I'm hoping this will keep him together until I return." Gaius smiled softly, trying to show Merlin that he was poking a little fun at their prince, knowing full well that he would be sore tomorrow. Merlin blinked a couple timed before returning his mentor's smile with a twitch of his lips which seemed to physically hurt more than bring comfort.

"I can do that, sure." Merlin said, hopping off his bed and heading towards his guardian. Gaius was like a father to him, since he didn't know whether his own was even alive, and he was more than grateful to the older, wiser man for his input and unwavering faith in him. It helped him push his shoulders back, if only a little bit, brightening his face a shade or two. Merlin took the offered bottle and, with a nod, headed towards his prince's chambers.

Arthur groaned, tossing in his bed, his skin slick with sweat and his muscles taught as he gripped the sheets. Images flashed behind his eyes of a pale figure, pressed against his body, bright red drops of what looked to be blood making the skin look even paler. A gasps, a shudder, an intimate laugh. The images seemed almost real, as if he could feel the other body's heat against him, the hot tears that fell, the splashed of rapidly cooling blood that pooled in the crevices of the alabaster skin that he had laid claim to. Bruising grip left purpling welts, his nails leaving scars, the warmth wrapped around his aching member. All of these and more twisted themselves in the prince's mind.

A sudden knock at his door had him spilling from his bed, his body shaking from the exertion that hadn't been real. Gasping breaths filled his lungs as the door opened, a quiet gasp drawing his attention to whoever happened to be visiting him this late. Merlin stared at his prince, eyes taking in the disheveled hair, the shining skin, the tremors that wracked his prince's body. He rushed over, kneeling down beside Arthur before his mind could catch up to him.

"Arthur! Oh my Gods, are you okay?!" Merlin asked, quickly reaching a hand out to touch his prince's forehead. He hadn't realized that he was touching someone else. Why would he, when it was his prince? "You're burning up! Here, let me-" Merlin's words were stopped as he suddenly found himself pressed against the floor, his prince atop him, straddling his waist. The fear shot through him like an arrow, freezing his limbs and his breath, deep blue eyes growing wide.

"M-Merlin..." the blond man rasped out, leaning down to press his face against his manservant's neck. He stopped before his lips touched the unblemished skin, deeply breathing in the scent of _his_ manservant; that spicy, woody scent that was all Merlin. A groan escaped his parting lips, leaning forward a bit more to press his teeth into the skin.

"Arthur, pl-please!" Merlin managed to squeeze a bit of air from his lungs, his shaking hands reaching up to press against the blond mans bare chest. Arthur pulled away quickly as if shocked. The coolness of Merlin's skin was like ice to his heated person, jolting his mind from the haze of desire that had clouded his mind.

Forcing himself up, he lurchingly walked himself around the bed, moving as if he were drunk. He cling to the bedpost, trying to stabilize himself in the moment, in the here and now instead of letting the fog of lust to descend over his eyes again.

"M-Merlin. I-I'm sorry... I can't... I can't control myself..." Arthur growled out, his teeth gnashing loud enough for Merlin to hear it from where he lay on the ground, warily watching the prince. It took the blond man a second before the conversation with Gaius that he and Percival had had to come back, his eyes flinching towards his pillow.

"Merlin, I-... Mnnf, I need you to um... check under my pillow, ahhh.." Arthur groaned as he spoke, his member hard and begging to be released from it's confines. He ground himself against the bedpost without realizing it, trying his hardest not to allow himself near his manservant. He couldn't, _wouldn't_, allow himself to touch Merlin in that way. Not without his consent. He didn't want to be the reason for Merlin to have that gaunt look on his face for even longer, avoiding every touch as if it were the plague. He _had_ to control himself. He was the prince!

When Arthur noticed that Merlin hadn't moved a muscle, he growled low in his chest, the sound almost like that of a wild animal. "NOW MERLIN!" he yelled out, his hands gripping the bedpost hard enough for the wood to complain with a loud creak. That definitely got the younger boy moving, almost tripping over himself just to stand up, leaving the jar of ointment on the ground we he had been laying.

Merlin stared at his prince, the flush of his skin, the predatory look in his eyes. It sent a shiver down his spine, but the worst part was that he wasn't sure if it was fear or... excitement. He hadn't felt the need to wash himself clean when the prince had helped him up earlier, and even now, when his shoulders burned from the contact, it didn't feel wrong. Or dirty. A part of his mind, a part so far from the current proceedings to hardly even be noticed, wondered why he could handle the prince's touch, but no one else's.

The wind moaned outside of the prince's window as Merlin made his way towards the bed, the glass rattling hard enough to make him jump. He rushed to the side of the bed, trying to ignore the piercing gaze that he could feel bore itself into his skin, touching parts of him that he didn't even know existed. His deep, ocean blue eyes stared at the sweat-soaked sheets, his pale hands shaking as he leaned towards the bed to remove the pillow. An odd sensation crawled along his fingertips the closer his hand got to the pillow, almost as if he had summoned his magic without meaning to. But once it hit him, he yanked the pillow back, throwing it across the room and almost into the fireplace. It wasn't _his_ magic he was feeling.

The pouch lay so innocently on the bed, no marked tainting its leather exterior. A gentle scent hit Merlin's nose, causing him to cover his face with the crook of his elbow. It was an enchanted packed of herbs, that much was certain. But for what purpose? He chanced a look at the blond man that had gone quiet behind him, Merlin's eyes widening a bit.

The look Arthur was giving him was nothing short of terrifying, the look of a hunter who had cornered his prey. His hands stayed glued to the bedpost, showing that he still had some modicum of self control, but the longer Merlin watched, the less the prince's arms shook, the more his grip lessened on the post. Quickly, without really thinking about it, Merlin grabbed the pouch of herbs and ran, turning his back quickly on Arthur as he tried to make his way from the room. He had to get this pouch away from other man, had to make sure that he wouldn't do whatever it was that he was stopping himself from doing. The same part of Merlin's brain that had wondered earlier was now wondering why he was hiding the obvious from himself but the fear overwhelmed the tiny voice, drowning it out completely for the time being.

Throwing one look over his should showed him that Arthur stayed glued to the spot next to his bed, however his light blue eyes had followed his manservant, and it was those eyes that Merlin last saw as he passed through the doorway before slamming the door shut behind him. He couldn't stop, wouldn't allow himself to even catch a breath as he made his way back to Gaius' chambers. The cool night air felt great on his fear-warmed skin, the nervous sweat helping him cool down as he ran.

He made it through the door to the old physician's chambers before allowing himself to stop, his breath coming in great gasps as he tried to regain the oxygen his system had lost. Gaius had been startled awake, not expecting a running servant to slam into his quarters this time of night. He had hoped Merlin would have had the decency to at least be quiet. But alas, it was not meant to be.

The older man waddled his way over, his old bones not being able to hurry himself from place to place like he used to. Concern made his wrinkled features even more prominent, his large eyebrows raising so far that the almost were lost in his long hair. He lay a hand gently on Merlin shoulder, waiting patiently for the boy to regain his breath before asking him his questions.

"My boy, what's the rush? I thought you had taken the poultice to-"

"To Arthur, yes.." Merlin interrupted hastily, throwing a wide-eyed look to his guardian. "Bu-But Gaius he... He tried... tried to um..." Instead of telling him what had happened, he instead held out the pouch that he had found underneath the prince's pillow. "I found this under Arthur's pillow after... he um... tried to-to uh..." Merlin looked down, his face turning bright red, making Gaius worry for a split second whether or not he was going to pass out from having the blood rush so far up so quickly. He stared at the pouch, worrying his lip between his teeth.

"Merlin.. Do you know what that is?" Gaius asked cautiously, taking it from Merlin gently, as if the bag would sting him if he handled it wrongly. Merlin shook his head, following the man with his eyes as the other man walked over to the hearth, the fire still alive, but barely. Taking one last look, he tossed it into the flames, watching as the leathers slowly caught before a green flame burst forth, roaring up the chimney, taking the enchantment with it. Afterward, only ash remained.

"It's a type of implement used by those of the Old Religion, to turn someone against those they love, eventually causing them so much mental anguish over their choices that they usually take their lives without the priestesses having to dirty their hands." Gaius slowly turned, eyeing Merlin. "The fact that this now makes two incidents, both aimed at you... My boy, you are their target. They are trying to use you, knowing that you are close to, not just the prince, but those who are also closest to him. You are the focal point in which, should you fall, the whole of Camelot will fall with you." He watched Merlin, wondering if the boy truly understood how instrumental he was in making sure the kingdom stayed afloat.

Merlin stared at Gaius, slowly shaking his head. "G-Gaius, I'm just a servant! I can't... I can't be that important to the prince.." he said softly, not looking his mentor in the eye. Deep down, he wanted nothing more than to be something other than a servant to his prince, but there were codes, rules and regulations that kept things from progressing too far. The conversation brought forth the memories from earlier in the night; Arthur's breath along his neck, his hard, iron grip on his shoulder, the aching need that rubbed against his own member. He tried to suppress a shudder, his face and neck flushing with embarrassment as he felt his own member rise to say hello to his new memories.

Gaius just watched Merlin, understanding the doubts that plagued his mind. However, he needed Merlin to be aware of the situation he is most likely to find himself in. "This enchantment does not implant desires, Merlin. It merely twists what's already there. You were able to get this away before it had done much harm, but I mush warn you; things between you and the prince may not be the same as they once were." Gaius ends his vague statement with a nod before walking over to his work bench, placing materials inside.

"I will be going to see to the prince, now. I suggest you get some rest. I will have him excuse you from you duties for the morning. Hopefully, by the time his training has ended, the effects of the enchantment have lessened enough for him to easily control his urges. We need to make sure to keep up appearances like nothing is wrong. We an't let Uther find out about this. Not yet." Merlin nods some, slowly edging his way from the door.

He watched Gaius leave, his eyes glued to the door long after the old physician had left. Things would be different, he had said. Merlin wondered how different could the possibly be? He wouldn't know the full extent of the damage, _effects_, until he saw Arthur in the afternoon. Sighing, he took a bottle of sleeping tonic, and headed to his room. He was definitely going to need all the rest he could to handle the next day's labours.

No memories of the first night plagued his dreams. No memories of Percival's hands, lips, or teeth. No memories of blood, pain, or fear. The only thing Merlin's mind was able to dredge up through the thickness of the tonic-laden sleep, was the dim, almost hidden guilty excitement that the night had brought to him.


End file.
